Air Conditioning
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: She hates him, really, and one day she'll stop visiting him so often. He'll break up with her, too. One day. Some day. Maybe. GiovanniJenny, aka LegalityShipping. Oneshot, complete.


She wishes the air conditioning would stop.

The room is almost to the freezing point, the way he likes it. It's cold as hell, and, mind you, she _does_ consider this hell. The blinds are drawn shut, dipped down so that only faint streams of light are making their way through. The air vibrates with the tension she's feeling. Dark and unassuming, there is a hundred things wrong with this place. The illegal heads of various creatures, the obvious wealth of the furniture, everything.

And the air keeps blowing on her, freezing her so that she can't relax, but the only chair close to her is occupied by that horrible Persian. The cat smirks at her knowingly, knowing exactly why she is here. She is not here for city business or to make an arrest. She should be. She should take her gun out and order him on the floor. She should be here to end the crimes he's committed, to take him in and lock him away forever.

She isn't.

In this personal hell, her Lucifer stands and, in a single stride, in beside her. Today was rough on her. Fourteen times she had to lie to keep him from falling under suspiscion. Fourteen times she denied the truth, covered his tracks, stayed loyal to him without ever letting on just how close she was to the man. She should be ashamed of herself. She isn't, because all day she's been too busy longing desperately for his embrace.

"Jenny," he purrs, and she can't think anymore because the air conditioning just got louder. All words are lost as he wraps his arms around her, pulls her close, warm body pressed against hers with nothing short of utter need. "_My_ Jenny..."

She cringes, because she knows that she is totally under his control, and she doesn't remembering surrendering herself to him. Not that, mind you, she'd ever want to retreat from him. This whole thing has snowballed out of control, and all she can do is live in the here and now to keep from going utterly mad. His breath is warm on her neck and he looks at her with eyes that are quietly concerned for her. He'll mask his concern with harsh sounding comments on her health, making his worry for her safety sound like an insult. She'll roll her russet eyes at him and tell him she can take of herself while he looks down his nose at her. It would be insulting if he didn't have that taletell glint in his eyes and that soft frown on his face.

The typical moments follow, the sweet affection he gives her and only her. The kiss, the soft conversation, the leaked bits of information she shouldn't be telling him as she completely forsakes all police morals. With every second, it gets colder and colder. The sun is sorching outside and she'd really rather be out there than here. She'd rather be out there with a fellow officer and leave this man to his own private little icy cool world. The urge to bolt works its way through her, like it always does.

But she stays anyway because he's handsome, and rich, and talks as if she's worth something to him. He very well may be hell on Earth to everyone else. The second she exits his office, he will be to her too. But in this moment, as he buries himself against her with childish clinginess, he's not a monster. He's not a criminal. For the briefest moment, he is Giovanni: a broken man, a divorced man, a single man, and a man without anyone whom to give his heart. For a few second she can lay her head down on his shoulder, close her eyes and really feel like they are a normal couple... Right up until those inevitable doubts sear through her mind.

"Giovanni?" she asks suddenly, amazed by her own courage. "Do you love me?"

The air conditioning stops. The Persian slinks out of the room. Warmth and feeling seep back into her chilled body. Seeming slightly startled, voice a low, empty whisper, he meets her eyes.

"Yes."

For a second in time, she really believes him, believes in him. Their eyes meet, russet and cold brown. She feels terrible for misjudging him. No criminal would risk everything for a relationship with a police officer if they weren't in love. Suddenly the question sounds cruel to her own mind and she wraps her arms around him, pressing as close to him as she can. He sighs heavily. Has she wounded him? Can he be wounded? His expression is unreadable as he gently pushes her away.

Before she can see the hurt and disappointment working the way across his face, the air conditioning comes back on, and he turns his face towards it. His life, Giovanni realizes, will always be cold and lonely, even when people are near him. He can't afford this anymore, can't afford her hard bought affection and subtle distrust. He isn't a simple man, a broken man, a single man who can devote time to such things. He's just Giovanni, the criminal mastermind, and if he were smarter he'd have kept her Jenny, the officer who hated his guts, not Jenny, the gentlest lover he'd ever had.

Tomorrow, he'll break up with her and go back to his cold self. He promises himself this mentally, just as he's done a hundred times before.

Just to mock him, the air conditioning shuts off, leaving two warm bodies entangled in each other, alone, in the stillness of the evening. This is his own personal hell right now. He can't pull away. This angel is going to kill him one day, he realizes vaguely as he kisses her for what seems to be the first time. She'll trump him one day, come to her senses or something. She'll move on from this nonsense, if for no other reason than Jessie and James annoying the hell out of her.

Yeah, sure she will.

And one day, he'll break up with her, too.


End file.
